As the night carried on, music began to fill my ears as the guests started to couple up and dance with one another. I was never the romantic type, nor did I have such capabilities to dance, so whenever my school had an event, I always played sick when suddenly a mysterious shadow entered the room. At that same time, I didn't see him, but I could feel him; that's when I looked at Dracarus. He was mid-stride, his hand frozen inches from my back, his eyes locked in a permanent, icy stare toward the throne. I reached out and tapped his shoulder, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Drac?" I whispered. No response.
I gave him a frantic shake, my hands gripping the expensive fabric of his royal coat, but he was like a statue carved from marble. He didn't even blink an eye or move a muscle when I slapped his face. I spun around, my breath hitching as I realized the entire gala had become a still frame. A high-ranking duchess was caught mid-laugh, her wine suspended in a crystalline arc as it spilled from her glass. The demonic crows outside were silhouettes frozen against a moon that had stopped its climb.
Panic, raw and high-voltage, surged through me. "Lukas? Anyone?"
HELLO!!!!?
The silence was so absolute I could hear the static in my own brain. That was when I felt it. . . a presence. It wasn't the winter chill of Dracarus or the suffocating gold-pressured ego of the king. This was something else. It was an absence. A void that made the hair on my body stand up.
"Who's there?" I spun around, my eyes darting across the frozen faces of the elite. "Who are you? Come out and show yourself!"
"You're a loud little glitch, aren't you?"
The voice didn't come from the doors. It came from right behind me, whispered directly into the shell of my ear. I jumped, nearly tripping over my hem as I scrambled back, but there was no one there. The air shimmered for a fraction of a second, like heat haze over asphalt, before a figure began to render out of the nothingness.
He was a shadow given form, taller than Dracarus and draped in a darkness that seemed to swallow the light of the chandeliers. His face was obscured by the shifting gloom, but his eyes... they were the color of a dying star.
"Did you do this?" I demanded, my voice shaking despite the wildcat spirit trying to claw its way out. "Did you stop time just to talk to me?
Why me?
Look around . . . the king is right there. The Prince is right there. Talk to someone important."
The mysterious figure took a slow, deliberate step toward me. The floor didn't even creak under his weight. "Importance is a matter of perspective, Hina. My father rules the threads, but I see the knots. And you? You are a very messy knot."
I narrowed my eyes. "Are you him? The one they're all too terrified to name?"
He didn't answer. He just reached out, his hand stopping a hair's breadth from my cheek. "Be careful, little bird. Don't bite off more than you can chew tonight. You're playing with matches in a house made of dry bone. If you aren't careful, you won't just burn. . . you'll find yourself somewhere deep underground, where even the shadows forget your name."
"Is that a threat?" I challenged, baring my teeth and clenching my fists.
"It's a forecast," he murmured. "The Gala is a stage, but the basement is a grave. Choose your steps wisely."
Before I could demand more, he turned and walked toward the shadows near the velvet curtains. With a casual wave of his hand, the world felt like it snapped back into place. The violin music exploded back into my ears, and the spilled wine hit the floor with a splash.
Time was unpaused.
Dracarus blinked, his hand finally settling on my back as if nothing had happened. He led me forward toward the King, oblivious to the fact that a god of shadows had just threatened to bury me. I went through the motions, the "performance" feeling like a blur. My mind was looping on that voice. And it's a good thing he didnt notice the bog handprint on his face; he'd kill me for sure.
By the time the Gala began to wind down, my adrenaline had crashed into a dull ache. Luke found me near the exits, his usual "puppy" mask back in place, looking exhausted but relieved.
"Did you see him, Luke?" I asked, grabbing his arm as we made our way toward the courtyard. "The man in the shadows? Did you feel the air stop?"
Luke looked at me, genuine confusion clouding his eyes. "Feel what? The air was a bit stuffy, I suppose. And see who? The king didn't leave his throne all night. You're white as a sheet, Hina. Maybe the corset is too tight."
I let out a shaky breath, looking back at the obsidian palace. "Never mind. Just... take me home."
He escorted me to the carriage, the night air biting at my exposed scars. As the horses began the long trek back to the dorms, Luke actually let out a small, huffing laugh.
"I have to say, Hina, tonight was... something else. Did you see the Prince? I've never seen Dracarus make such a fool of himself. Stumbling over his words to the High Council? Tripping over that toast? It was like his coordination just... glitched."
I looked out the window, a small smirk tugging at my lips. "He did look a bit unrendered, didn't he?"
"Un-what? Whatever. He was a mess," Lukas chuckled, leaning back against the leather seats. "I'm going to have to literally help him to bed tonight. The 'Perfect Prince' has a bit of a hangover from the pressure, I think."
The carriage slowed as we reached my quarters. Lukas hopped out and held the door, walking me all the way to my room to ensure the "sacrifice" was safely tucked away. He stayed until I was inside, his suspicious kindness softening into something almost real.
"Get some rest," he said, closing the door. "Tomorrow, we will be going out of town to the neighbouring kingdom."
I stood in the center of my dark room; I couldn't even bother to ask questions anymore. The way my body went flat, the silence of the night started feeling heavy. The mysterious man's warning echoed in my head as my eyelids became heavy and my body, numb, soon gave out and collapsed onto th soft plushy bed.